


magic and lavender

by spacegirlkj



Series: blooming enchantment [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Implied Sexual Content, Multi, artsy hinata, but like v brief, flower plant person iwaizumi and elemental oikawa !!!!, moden witch au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-08 15:29:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7763224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacegirlkj/pseuds/spacegirlkj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>it's magical, so so magical, how he can grow flowers at his fingertips and he can light a flame by snapping his fingers, or how the three of them fit so perfectly in each other's arms.<br/>-<br/>mordern witches au</p>
            </blockquote>





	magic and lavender

**Author's Note:**

> an au because. holy moly i love this ot3. also magic

He's broke. He is so, so broke.

He's working every shift he can take at the local coffee shop, he's trying to find commissioned mural and artwork, he's spray painting in places that he shouldn't just for the chance that he could get tips. And despite it all, Hinata is staring down at the note, officially signally he can no longer stay in his building.

He sighs. it was a long time coming; his landlady was nice, but there's only so many times you can skip rent before you get booted out. Already packed to leave, all he owns can be fit into a single carry on suitcase, littered with stickers of places he's been. Granted, it's not much. He doesn't mind. When he steps back to look at his bare flat, he doesn't even feel a pang of nostalgia.

It's raining when he steps out onto the street. Cottage country is busy for half the year, and the summer crowd is at its highest as summer clutches on. The warm season is crucial on towns like these, where the population sits at a comfortable one thousand and thirty two, the full time residents never take the six months of good weather for granted. Hinata bites his lip, moving along. his best friends. He loves them to bits and pieces, and he prayed they would let him move in.

When Hinata sets his sight on their home, walking along the busy road, he notes the weather. It could be mother nature, but it could always be Oikawa. he was rather emotional at best, and hinata didn't mind, but he hoped Oikawa was alright.

When he arrives at their home, he climbs the stone set of stairs necessary to reach the front door. There's a vine that crawls along, hinata can tell someone keeps tried to remove it again, but it stays put. It’s made its home in the cracks, and looks quite content there. Hinata reaches out to pet it's leaves, knowing it likes that. The plant relaxes, and Hinata smiles. By now, he can  practically hear Iwaizumi humming.

The apartment is a crowded kind of organized chaos; shoes are haphazardly pushed next to the door, the coats hung perfectly above them. The coat rack is placed in a medium pot of soil, acting as a guide for orchids that wrap around it. Hinata inhales deeply, before bellowing out a welcome and toeing off his shoes.

Oikawa is in the kitchen, to his right when he walks in. There are three different pots lined on the countertop, and jars beside them. His immaculate hair is pulled back with a blue bandanna, a single stray strand of hair loose and framing his face. He grins when he spots hinata, and throws something into the pot before clashing on a lid.

"Hina-chan!" Oikawa exclaims. He looks hinata up and down, before his face falls. "You didn't bring an umbrella, god, I should've told you it would rain."

Hinata shrugged. "Don't have one, so it doesn't matter."

Oikawa smiles, and Hinata lets his heart flutter. Not many would peg Oikawa as a witch, but an elemental-weather type suited him perfectly. Hinata clears a spot on the counter by the stove and hops next to Oikawa as the elder sticks a slender finger into the coils of the stove's element and lights a flame. Hinata grins, the thrill of seeing magic closeup never proving boring. Oikawa is cooking, and the scent of parmesan cheese and basil fills Hinata's nose. Maybe, just maybe, he thinks, he can put off The Big Talk they would undoubtedly need to have.

(Granted, Hinata knows that Oikawa had already figured it out, his sharp eyes and observant tendencies have proved themselves before).

"Why is it raining?" Hinata asks, his voice quieting as the water begins to boil. If the weather was Oikawa's doing, that meant he had reason to. it was a simple question, one that substitutes for _are you okay? what's wrong?_

But Oikawa’s smile isn't fake, and he hums as he answers. "It's too dry for Iwa's liking."

“I had to go to town to get grain." A voice says, causing hinata and Oikawa to swivel to face iwaizumi who leans against the wall. "Lots of the flowers are wilting there."

Hinata smiles lightly, looking to his feet. Iwaizumi doesn't like to show it, but he is soft and kind, a gentle hand. Plant magic is rare, and people who are manifestations of plants, who can have sprouts from their palms, who's plants are extensions of themselves, are practically legend.

And yet, Iwaizumi stands in the crowded kitchen, a stem snaking down his arm before separating. A single daisy lies in his palm, and he hands it to hinata, the corners of his mouth quirked. Oikawa hums as hinata tucks the flower into his jeans.

"I got kicked out." Hinata says, finally. He isn't upset when he says it, rather nonchalant. Iwaizumi softens, but oikawa senses his indifference and shrugs.

"It's a miracle that it took this long." He says, brushing his hand past Hinata's as he moves to grab a handful of cheese.

"Do you have space?" Hinata asks. The question is obvious, he needs a bed. The answer is less so, Hinata doesn't have much of an income, and the home may be too tight.

Iwaizumi, however, furrows his brow and takes a step forward. His presence isn't like Oikawa's, demanding, charismatic, rather ever present and strong.

"You practically live here, Hinata, of course we have space." He says, taking his suitcase from him like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

Oikawa smiles over his shoulder, stirring another pot lazily. "Hina-chan, I've been begging you to move in forever. Don't worry."

Something about oikawa's unwavering trust makes Hinata's stomach bubble, a flush working its way onto his cheeks as he smiles.

He doesn't see, but all the flowers in the house stretch their leaves.

* * *

Rooms were a small issue.

The house had a main bedroom, along with a study that iwaizumi had pressed a double bed into. There wasn't an attic, nor a basement, and couches were not a viable long term solution. Oikawa, however, dissatisfied with having hinata sleep on a futon, offered his bed to the younger, which in turn, started a cycle.

Oikawa and Hinata share a bed one night, then Iwaizumi and Oikawa share a bed, then Hinata and Iwaizumi share. It was unofficial, and unspoken, broken every other week, but still somehow in place. Hinata doesn't mind; Oikawa's long limbs always manage to tangle themselves in his, and Iwaizumi always smells like fresh earth and the forest.

* * *

A fact about Oikawa: he likes lightning.

Often times, the three will curl up on the back porch to watch brilliant forks dance across the sky. Oikawa would spend the day working on spells to create the show, pouring hours into making each bolt strike beautifully across a pink sky.

Some days, the storms were not intentional.

Hinata is sitting cross legged in the living room, large canvas spread out on the ground. He has Iwaizumi sitting in front of him, tending to a small choke cherry tree, acting as his subject for his painting. It is the first project in months that isn't commissioned, and the feel of painting for the fuck of it sent a smile to his face. the smile, however, fell when the thunder started.

The pair knows other elemental-weather witches live nearby, sure, but anxiety bubbles ahead, causing Iwaizumi's shoulders to tighten.

When the door to the house is throw open by a particularly moody oikawa, a clap of thunder and bolt of lightning announcing his entrance, the pair turns to him, watching as he wrings out his soaked hair.

"Fucking asshole found my spot." He spits.

Hinata cocks his head. "Your spot?"

"Where I collect moonstone. Someone took the entire supply, like, way too much for one person." Oikawa explains.

Oh. Hinata gets it. A witch thing.

"And they ruined the entire space too. A bunch of trees got taken down, the rocks were ground into dust. Probably someone with too much time and a fancy machine." Oikawa continues, flopping onto the couch. The springs hiss, but he snuggles closer, thunder still rumbling. He looks down, spotting Hinata's painting, and his shoulders relax. The thunder rumbles, but there is no crack of lightning.

"its pretty," Whispers Oikawa.

"Are you saying that because it's a good painting, or because it's of Iwaizumi?" hinata responds cheekily.

Oikawa smiles. "Both. You're cute too, Shou-chan."

"So are you, the both of you!" Hinata exclaims, leaning back, a giant smile on his face. There's a splash of blue on his face, and a dab of white on his shirt.

The rain stops, and iwaizumi blushes so hard daisies sprout at his feet. He mutters an insult, turning his head away and averting his eyes. The sun shines through their crowded living room, and all of the plants straighten, and extend their leaves towards the boy with paint on his hands.

* * *

Hinata sometimes paints at night, in alleyways where he shouldn't. Oikawa and iwaizumi are wary, fearful of the younger getting caught, but the fear fades; they know hinata loves to make art, to express.

When he leaves, Iwaizumi slips a bundle of stephanotis into his pocket, on account of good luck, Hinata can’t find the energy to protest. The sweet smell barely is recognizable amongst the spray paint, but when he looks down, he spots the small bundle of white and smiles.

* * *

Hinata can’t sleep.

He leaves the bed, sheets a tangled mess as he moves to place his feet on the cold hardwood floor. He shivers, pulls his oversized sweatshirt lower. It almost reaches his knees, and smells of Oikawa.

Rubbing his eyes, he moves from the bedroom, padding into the living room. It smells of rain, the musk moving through Hinata’s small body as he reaches onto his toes for the teapot. 

The stove knobs are dusty from disuse, Oikawa usually lighting them himself. Hinata struggles for a moment before the flame flickers, and he places the teapot, filled with water, onto the stop coil. He steps back and sighs, turning to grab tea.

The teas were kept in mason jars, the leaves and mixtures made by both Iwaizumi and Oikawa. Some were self explanatory, simply reading _Mint Tea_ , while others were more elaborate, reading _to ward off bad luck (sweet fern)_ or _for sleep (lavender orange)._ Hinata reaches for the later, opening it and inhaling. The household magic, the small spells he hears whispered are so slight. He smiles down at the tea and spoons some into the boiling pot.

He pours a cup, leaving the pot on the stove as he moves to sit on the window sill. He thumbs the rose that was intertwined with the lamp, watching as it straightened and grew towards him. He smiled, taking a sip of his tea.

A creak filled the flat, causing Hinata’s head to snap forwards. He looked to the bedrooms where Iwaizumi was exiting, his sweatpants hugging his thighs as he moved to pour himself a cup of tea and join Hinata.

Hinata instantly feels guilty: He never meant to wake Iwaizumi, but Iwa still stands in front of him, eyes crinkling as he smiles. The moonlight is bright enough that his pupils dilate to compensate for the glow that was cast onto the pair as he sits on the floor by the window sill, his head resting on Hinata’s lap.

Hinata’s heart skips a beat as Iwaizumi closes his eyes, humming.

“Can’t sleep?” He asks, opening them, his wide irises caught the moonlight, the green turning teal.

Hinata nods, and Iwaizumi lifts his head and spreads his thighs, motioning Hinata forward. With shaky limbs, Hinata nods, being careful not to spill boiling tea onto Iwaizumi as he climbs down to sit between his legs, Iwaizumi’s head resting against his.

Hinata takes a deep breath, steading his heart which continues to beat heavy and loud in his ears. Iwaizumi runs a hand over his torso, and Hinata faintly notices the olive tint to his skin.

Hinata felt calmer, his earlier anxieties subdued. Iwaizumi continues to run one hand over his skin, the other moving through his locks methodologically, rubbing circles against his scalp. Hinata sighs through his nose, warmth spreading through him not only from his tea, but from the soft touch of Iwaizumi’s calloused palms.

Hinata looks down at his cup, where tea leaves were littered. Iwaizumi follows his gaze, and moves to grab his, pouring a few drops of tea, and it’s leaves, into Hinata’s cup. Then, he reaches over to the roses on the lamp, plucking on of the wilting flowers. With careful hands, he slips the rose into Hinata’s palms, taking the smaller hands in his. Iwaizumi closes his eyes, burying his nose into the crook of Hinata’s neck as the rose begins to bloom again, colour creeping back into it’s browned leaves. 

Hinata looks in wonder, at not just the rose, but at Iwa, whose soft smile and kind eyes made flowers bloom inside of his organs. The roses in his lungs rose to his lips, and a soft _thank you_ passes through themwithout his permission.

Iwaizumi’s smile grows, and he shakes his head. Taking the rose from Hinata’s palm, he places it into the cup with the rest of the tea and leaves. He moves, pressing two fingers into the mix, and Hinata watches with wonder as lavender begins to grow among the tea and roses.

“When you can’t sleep, you can almost talk to them.” Iwaizumi says softly. “The plants love to hear you.”

Hinata’s heart pangs, and he looks down at the cup where the flowers sit, their aroma strong. He sighs, inhaling the scent of lavender and rose and something unmistakably Iwaizumi, the scent of fresh earth.

The pair hears a sigh, and look up to see Oikawa with a soft smile. He is holding a candle, and shaking his head. With one hand, he sparks a flame, lighting it and thus the room with a dim amber plume. He places the candle on the floor and climbs onto the window sill, lying with his long legs pressed against the wall so that he can slip himself into the crock of Iwaizumi’s neck, and his arm around his shoulder to tickle Hinata. Oikawa smells like the rain and ozone, his natural cologne the petrichor and lightning outside of the window.Hinata presses deeper againstIwaizumi’s broad and bare chest as Oikawa lights a small flame in his palm, letting it dance as it captures the hollows of the boy’s face. Hinata watches the dance, entranced by Oikawa’s hand rubbing his neck and the magic before him.

Hinata feels his eyes begin to drop, and before Oikawa can say goodnight, he falls asleep.

* * *

Hinata rises with the sun at five in the morning too often, before Iwaizumi or Oikawa even think about stirring. He brews tea, he sits on the windowsill, and with the plants around him, he talks.

He tells the roses that climb the lamp about how he barely makes his keep, he tells theamaryllis about how he is afraid that his art with never be appreciated, how he is worried he’ll never see it in a gallery among other paintings and sculptures and masterpieces. He tells the lavender that he can’t sleep because he is confused, he’s confused about why he thinks about Iwaizumi’s rough hands sliding down his hips as they lie together, his lips on his neck. He tells the choke cherry sapling that he is plagued by the question of how soft Oikawa’s lips would be against his own, if the boy’s hands would be warm or cool as they slid into a bed together, sheets tangled in their limbs.

Hinata pets the leaves of the lily of-the-valley and asks it if it’s okay to be in love with your best friends, if it’s okay to want to kiss them hold their hands and make them smile. He turns to the orchids, Oikawa’s favourite, and whispers the fear that he’ll never be able to be something for two people magical enough for each other alone.

* * *

They eat a cold meal on the roof outside of the window where Hinata loves to sit. The shingles are thick with moss, and the odd slug passes by and sits on Oikawa’s bare toes. He scrunches his nose, Iwaizumi and Hinata laugh. The sky is overcast, with angel hairs of sun peaking through the clouds and the odd crow resting beside them. Hinata is contempt, even when the crow’s caw stares him enough to drop his chopsticks off of the roof. It’s okay, because Oikawa insists on feeding him like a child with his own to make up for it.

The crow stays through their meal, listening to their bad jokes and watching Oikawa make music with the wooden wind chimes.

* * *

Hinata wonders if it’s love he feels when he watches Oikawa blow bubbles that morning as they walk to buy meat and eggs. Iwaizumi rolls his eyes at the childish antics, at the way the two skip along like overgrown toddlers through the streets, but on the inside, he is so incredibly fond of the two.

Oikawa pulls them into apothecary/coffeeshop run by the silver haired boy namedSuga. Hinata smiles towards him; they’ve never spoken, but they’ve seen each other enough from when Hinata tags along for Iwaizumi and Oikawa’s “witchy things” that they recognize each other’s face.

Oikawa and Iwaizumi purchase gemstones and rocks, and Oikawa slips in a star chart to the basket. Hinata is still enchanted by the atmosphere in the apothecary; the odds and ends of nature all neatly placed and labeled for you to buy by the gram. 

Before they leave, Suga calls out Hinata’s name.

“Hinata, your mother was a Seer, no?” Suga asks, leaning onto the counter.

Hinata is surprised. Iwaizumi and Oikawa tense, knowing his mother tends to be a topic as unstable as gunpowder. Hinata, however, smiles and nods.

“Yes, but it’s a female trait.” Hinata tells him. “My sister is as true as a Seer as my mother was, but I’m not.”

Suga’s eyes soften, and he reaches under the table to grab pass Hinata a black feather. “You must have some form of magic, no?”

Hinata shakes his head. “I can read oracle cards, but that’s it.”

Either Suga senses to leave the conversation there, or Iwaizumi and Oikawa’s aggressive glares were enough to make him smile and bid them farewell. Hinata pocket’s the feather, and takes Iwaizumi’s palm in one hand, Oikawa’s in the other, and exits the small building.

The wall home is quiet enough, and when they arrive home, Oikawa wraps his arms around Hinata, engulfs him in his embrace as the younger cries into his shoulder. Iwaizumi moves from his back, rubbing it with his steady hands as he leads them to the bedroom where the three collapse onto the mattress in a tangle of limbs.

“The worse thing,” Hinata chokes out into someone’s shoulder, he can’t tell whose. “Is that she left us alone, so very, very alone with dad, she left him alone too. And we thought Natsu was sick for the longest time before she decided to waltz back into our life and explain that she wasn’t. Then she leaves, she leaves in a splatter of blood in our tiny kitchen without any explanation. She could never stay put for very long.”

Oikawa hushes his cries, moving his head up so that they look each other in the eyes. With one hand, he wipes the tears under Hinata’s eyes, with the other, he runs down his arm.

“You’re okay now,” He says, never breaking eye contact. “You aren't alone.”

Hinata nods and sniffles as Iwaizumi hugs him from behind, settling him between their two bodies as they lie down. A vine begins to grow through their fingertips, connecting them together.

* * *

One day, Hinata makes jewelry.

He takes the feather that Suga gifted him, and some quartz and flowers and twine, and strings them together to make bracelets and necklaces and keychains and other useless things that are too pretty to ignore. 

When Oikawa spots them, he squeals, instantly asking Hinata to make him one. Hinata giggles, and slips the necklace around his slender neck, the quartz and peonies decorating his throat so nicely. 

For a moment, Oikawa is properly speechless, and Hinata marvels in the way hiseyes widen like a child’s and his lips stay parted. Iwaizumi enters, and blushes instantly at the sight, grumbling slightly as Hinata pushes a brace weaved with flowers and twine onto his wrist. He stops when he sees it against his skin, the greens and yellows constantly his tanned arms so beautifully. Iwaizumi blushes even redder, which no one knew was possible as Hinata smiles, wide, wide, and wider.

The crow’s feather lies around his neck, with a piece of sea glass, a sprig of lavender, and Oikawa’s blue quartz he was given for his birthday.

The three bask in the humidity and the beauty of each other’s wondrous expressions as rain pitter patters against the roof, the plants drinking in the glow of Hinata’s smile and the rain’s nourishment. Petrichor is thick in the air, and Hinata’s heart yearns for a kiss.

* * *

He thumbs at his watercolour brushes, handmade, from Iwaizumi, as he looks down at the deck of cards in front of him.

Oracle cards. He wasn’t sure what overcame him to design a deck, but now, he was creating watercolour shapes along the card paper, tracing the face of the water fairy in turquoise as the birds spoke outside his window. 

The lavender grew steady along the roses in the teacup, soil forming at the bottom from the moist tea leaves. Every so often, Hinata would notice Oikawa slipping a few drops of warm water into the glass when he thought he wasn’t looking. The action was cute, because Oikawa was useless with plants next to Iwaizumi, who could make petunias sprout in his hair.

Hinata continues to paint the cards, swirling his brushes in the hazy water before dipping them into the paints on his left. The design was oddly soft for his style, but as he finishes painting the last card, he can’t help but be proud of the way the colours swirl.

Lying the cards on the table, Hinata stretches out the kinks in his shoulders, wriggling his paint stained fingers as he moves to run them under the tap. The water is cool, and sends shivers up his spine as he pushes his hair out of his eyes.

When Oikawa and Iwaizumi see the cards, outlines inked and words written in small, loopy cursive, the pair’s eyes light up in awe. Iwaizumi picks up a card, the bee, and thumbs the vibrant colours, shaking his head in bewilderment. _They are so beautiful_ , he thinks.

“I can read them.” Hinata blurts out as they look through the cards, no words yet said. “If you want.”

Oikawa and Iwaizumi look at each other in bewilderment, before Oikawa coughs, and looks down at the cards. 

“Can you?” He asks. “They’re so beautiful, Hina-chan.”

Hinata nods, collecting the cards and begging to shuffle them. He motions for Oikawa to sit next to him, knocking on the deck as he does so. Oikawa looks hesitant, and Hinata immediately senses an inkling of fear. 

“It’s okay,” He says, pausing to rub his hand. “You can watch, Iwaizumi.”

Iwaizumi nods, and Oikawa settles back in his chair. Hinata takes a deep breath, looking to Oikawa. 

“Do you have a question in mind? Not a yes or no question, one with an open end. You don’t have to say it out loud.” He asks.

Oikawa responds immediately. “Yes,” He says, crossing his legs.

Hinata extends the deck to him, the familiar process as easy as breathing yet as intimate as a lover’s dance. “Knock on the deck.”

Oikawa does as asked, and Hinata shuffles once more before taking another breath and flipping the cards onto the table, face up to show the intricate design to the three of them. Placing the extra cards beside him, Hinata takes a deep breath, closing his eyes as he reads the cards.

“The basis of your question,” He says, “Is the water faery. She is all that is felt, your emotions, what you know. Water is fluid, is always changing and forever shown to be empathetic and feeling.”

“Right now, you’re scared, you dwell on things that aren’t there, that you can’t imagine.” Hinata said, looking at the card in front of him. “But this here, is what you are ignoring. The bee is a finicky creature, one that has to work hard for its honey.”

He paused, for a moment, a feeling passing through him as he thumbed the cards. 

“I sense a secret, no, a desire, a wish. One that can only be overcome by risk, which the cards say is in the happening.” Hinata tells Oikawa, touching the card, a deep green forest path with the word _risk_ written in gold ink. “You’ve already been patient, been kind, but until you recognize that you need to work for what you want, and that sometimes you need to take a blind leap, you won’t get there.”

Oikawa’s eyes are soft and marvelling at Hinata’s words. He is eerily serious, his body language relaxed yet purposeful as he reads the cards, always keeping a hand tangled with Oikawa’s. Hinata feels his heart flutter when he caught Iwaizumi watching with curious eyes.

“The butterfly is change, change that is big, but the same change that comes with every passing spring. Its change that we know and love, something that we can nourish. Butterflies are beautiful as they are strong, y’know?” Hinata says, smiling. “The cosmos is a card that relates to you,because you are creative and wonderful, but sometimes, you can’t appreciate things because you think of them too big. Space is vast, but the constellations of what we see are so very small, so it’s alright. You’re safe,”

“Which leads to this card, Adrift. In order to reach this,” Hinata tells him pointing to the card at the top which reads _wealth,_ “You must accept that you aren’t always in control. Remember that leaps of faith are just that, faith is important. Trust in your instincts, in the universe, in the way of the world. You don’t need to be in control to gain this wealth, this love.” 

Hinata finishes by taking a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. Oikawa blinks twice to rid the water from his eyes, and Hinata tackles him into a hug, smiling.

“Crap, I forgot to ask if you had another question!” He exclaims, backing away from the laughing Oikawa, who simply shakes his head.

Iwaizumi is still watching, his eyes lit up. Hinata notices that there are little sprouts growing from the wood of their table, and while the three smile and laugh, Iwaizumi reaches across the table to run a hand across Hinata’s wrist, simply basking in the light of his smile.

* * *

“I’m so lost,” Hinata whispers to the lavender and rose one night, leaning back on the window.

The thing is, he knows he isn’t. And he knows he would be a hypocrite if he doesn't take his own advice, but Iwaizumi and Oikawa and him have been sleeping in the same bed without question for weeks, and overtime he looks at them, his heart floods.

“I’m in love.” He says, bringing the cup to his nose to inhale the scent. “I’m in love, I’m in love, I’m in love with them.”

The plants extend to brush against his cheek, but Hinata didn’t expect to feel arms wrap around his stomach. He freezes, placing down the teacup and turns to face Iwaizumi, who is smiling with Oikawa at his side. Hinata looks so afraid, he reaches for his necklace, a nervous habit, but Oikawa interrupts the motion, pressing a soft and sweet kiss to his lips.

Oh. _Oh_.

And Oikawa’s lips are smooth like a calm pond, and his hands are as cold as ice, but Hinata doesn't mind, because his skin his burning with desire and love. Iwaizumi soon takes his place, touching their foreheads together before leaning down to connect their lips.

Iwaizumi tastes like honey, and his tongue is so warm and homely against Hinata’s own. His rough hands slide down his waist, and Hinata hums at the motion, egging Iwaizumi on as his lips move to his neck.

And the sensation is enough to make his toes curl, the petal soft feeling of Iwaizumi against him, with Oikawa smiling into his kiss, its all too good to be real. He reaches forward, grasping onto someone’s hair as hands carry him back to the warm covers of the bed, where hands and arms and legs and lips and _skin_ can touch one another in a way that is magical and beautiful and brilliant.

It’s everything he could’ve wanted, this kind of laughing-in-the-midst-of-sex smiles, teeth clashes during kisses, nails raking down a strong back, light enough not to hurt, but with enough pressure to leave a faint reminder in the morning. And Hinata kisses with passion and want because he’s so happy he doesn't need to wait anymore; Oikawa and Iwaizumi are here, and they are kissing them and he is running hands down the divers in their hips and the valley curves of their back. Beautiful, magical.

Hinata relishes in the warmth of Iwaizumi and Oikawa beside him. He lies, head on Iwaizumi’s strong chest, whose arm is wrapped around Oikawa, who is sleeping facing Hinata. This way, Hinata can wake to hear the steady thump of Iwaizumi’s heartbeat, and Oikawa’s soft fluttering eyelids.

When he wakes, the room is filled with yellow tulips, and the sun is shining oh so bright.

**Author's Note:**

> i loved writing this pls comment or talk w/ me on my tumblr spacegaykj


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